


Hey Jealous Lover Ch.8 of 16

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Jealous Brian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“In times of stress or adversity, it’s best to plow your anger and energy into something else.” L.Iococca<br/>Takes place after Ep.208 and before Ep.217</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Jealous Lover Ch.8 of 16

**Don’t ever discount the healing properties of skin and bone, of carnal desires of the flesh, because they’re good for anything that ails you.**

 

       Brian needed a bump. Brian needed to fuck. See Brian bump and fuck.

       Dr. Kinney’s tried and true prescription for pain relief came through again, After a quick trip to the Liberty Baths Hospital for physical therapy and much needed medicine, he felt more like himself. Invigorated by the cold rush of night air, he sauntered into Babylon with his aura ratcheted up from the last hit and paused at the entrance—King Kinney surveying his kingdom and loyal subjects.

 _“You walked in to the party like you were walking onto a yacht.”_ _©C.Simon_

       He sauntered toward the bar, barely acknowledging the lascivious glances thrown his way, yet fully aware of each one. When familiar faces came into view, he second-guessed his choice of venue for a night of sucking and fucking. He wanted a solo evening without the prying questions and quizzical looks of his friends. It wasn’t to be.

      “Well, if it isn’t Mikey and the Professor! You two could have your own show, just like the _Nanny and the Professor_.” Still feeling the effects of his latest “dose” of medicine, he chuckled at the word play. “What are you doing here on a Thursday night anyway?” The lighthearted voice turned edgy and the befuddled eyes sharpened. “Shouldn’t the two of you be in bed, dreaming of picket fences and station wagons?”

       For once, Michael wisely ignored the jabs. “We just got here a little while ago. Ben has off tomorrow for a conference so we decided to take advantage of it.” With an exaggerated movement, he looked behind and beyond Brian, who was motioning for Greg, the bartender, to line up his shots.

       Downing the first one in record time, Brian couldn’t help but notice Michael craning his neck. “What?” he demanded.

      “Where’s your better half?”

       With an equally exaggerated motion, Brian twisted his upper torso. “Hmm, I don’t know, Mikey. I pretty much travel with my front and back together. Don’t think I’m missing either one, but let’s see.” He moved his hands to his crotch and ass. “Nope! Both halves are here!” A loopy grin on his face, he emptied his second glass in one gulp to speed up the numbing process.

       Although Michael’s curiosity for all things Brian threatened to get the better of him, one look from Ben was enough to keep the inherited Novotny trait for meddling in the affairs of others under control.

      “I think Michael meant Justin, Brian,” Ben explained calmly.

       The hazel eyes sparked in anger. “I know what the fuck he meant, Professor! I’m not nearly as drunk as I need to be not to understand! As for my blond piece of boy ass? How the fuck should I know? I don’t keep him chained to the bed. Although that _is_ something we haven’t tried yet.” His cock pulsed at the deliciously filthy images.

       He caught the wordless exchange between Michael and Ben caught his eye and snapped, “I don’t keep a fucking GPS on him! We don’t check in, we don’t ask, we don’t tell, we don’t....” He shook his head, drained the third shot and signaled for a refill.

       Greg, in fine bartending tradition, always kept his eyes and ears open. He placed the glass in front of Brian with a conspiratorial whisper. “You missed him. He left about half an hour ago.”

       Features schooled into blasé indifference, Brian’s only outward sign of emotion was a raised eyebrow. “I hope he had the decency to fuck while he was here.”

      “Beats me!” Years of experience taught the bartender that discretion was the better part of valor when it came to Brian Kinney. “I don’t keep _that_ close an eye on everyone.”

       Brian gave a knowing look. “Yeah, right!“

      “If I knew everything that everyone thought I knew, I wouldn’t be working here! I’d be living off the blackmail money in the south of France. But for what it’s worth, he _was_ talking with that twink over there.” Greg nodded toward the other end of the bar, then wandered away to fill the multitude of liquor requests, fully aware there would be hell to pay if he didn’t cater to his demanding customers.

      “Hey, Greg!”

       Greg turned around to see the legendary smirk.

      “Keep the faith! You never know what’ll come up!”

       Greg acknowledged him with a backwards wave, his eyes gleaming at a possible Kinney style reward for the information.

       Brian leaned with his back against the bar, resting his elbows on the edge. With fingers wrapped around his drink the way they often gripped Justin’s cock, he raised the glass to his mouth and swallowed, the irony of the motion not lost on him.

       He surveyed the room with lazy disinterest, outstaring anyone who dared meet his gaze, until he found him, as he knew he would. Like a predator ready to strike, his eyes remained locked on the target while he chugged the rest of the liquor. Decision made, he slammed the glass down and started to walk away without a word, too singularly focused to hear Michael call after him, “Brian, where are you... Brian?”

       Michael shook his head in irritation and shouted to Ben over the music. “What the fuck is he doing? Trouble in paradise again?”

      “Stay out of it, Michael. It’s none of our business.”

      “But it is—“ He stopped short at Ben’s gentle but firm glance. “none of my business. Right! Gotcha!”

      “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough when the ground shakes and we’re thrown out of our beds by the next Kinney quake.” Ben grinned and pulled him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go. We can examine the merits of each other’s ‘halves’ in private.”

                                                                                              * * * *

 __ **“Pursuit and seduction are the essence of sexuality. It’s part of the sizzle.” ** _ C.Paglia _

        Propelled by an unwelcome visitor in his chest and gut, Brian walked with catlike precision. He nodded to Greg, and the bartender accurately read the message, filling a glass to the top when a large denominational bill appeared.

       Greg watched the scene unfold with shameless curiosity as Brian smoothly maneuvered himself next to a platinum haired, vanilla skinned _Blue Lagoon_ understudy who was seriously cruising and deeply engrossed in conversation with a firmly toned, caramel colored nougat with flowing black hair. Brian sipped his drink and shrewdly assessed the situation. biding his time for the opportune moment. He’d learned over the years to trust his sixth sense—Justin notwithstanding.

                                              **“Don't wait to strike while the iron is hot, but make it hot by striking.”** _William B. Sprague_

        His eyes cruised over the dance floor with indifference. Despite his casual stance, sex radiated from him like a bonfire. Every carefully crafted movement designed to entice and ensnare, his technique was so expert that not only did people know he was eye-fucking them, they didn’t care, becoming eager participants in their seduction.

        He settled on his true goal and held a pair of chocolate eyes hostage, successfully stealing them from their companion. When a faint blush tinged the darkened skin, he knew he had achieved his objective. Only then did he release them to order a refill. The ivory twink standing next to him tensed and spun around. Unable to hide his surprise, the shock on his face was almost comical.

        Brian acknowledged him with words dripping in sarcasm. _Time to put your balls where your mouth is, little man! Let’s see what you’re made of!_ “Well, well, if it isn’t the omnipresent Adam.I seem to be running into you all over town tonight. I would have thought you’d be grinding away at your art project since ‘you need to get a good grade.’ Or do you only grind with someone who doesn’t belong to you?”

        Flustered by the unexpected meeting, Adam flinched but recovered enough to throw a jab of his own. “I’m a big supporter of free will, Mr. Kinney.”

       “Glad to hear it. Then you won’t mind formally introducing me to your friend here.” Brian nodded toward the honey colored man standing next to Adam.

       “Formally?”

       “We met a couple of minutes ago.” Brian smirked. “Well?”

        With barely concealed irritation, Adam made the perfunctory introductions. “Brian Kinney, Erik—Erik, Brian Kinney.” He flashed an annoyed look. “Happy now?”

       “Much better! That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He shook his head in mock dismay. “Etiquette has certainly lost its mojo lately.”

        When Adam received a light poke in the ribs and an awed, “you know him?” in his ear, Brian couldn’t keep the smug grin off his face.

       “Um, yeah, sort of.” Adam couldn’t shake the feeling he was being controlled and manipulated. He took a deep swallow of his drink to stall for time.

        With an affable smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Brian heaved a dramatic sigh and chided, “Now, now, don’t be so modest. It’s more than ‘sort of.’” His voice hardened and his eyes blazed with a venom impossible to ignore. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

** “All the ways you wish you could be, that's me, I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck. I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.”  ** Fight Club

        Although Brian’s gaze crawled on his skin like an unsquashable bug, Adam couldn’t help but admire his ability to control a situation through his sexuality. He was a walking, talking engraved invitation to a lush garden of physical pleasure. Buthe was also just a man. For that reason, he made the tentative decision to give a little back. “I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” he retorted, trying to stand his ground against eyes that bored into him with frightening intensity. “From what Justin said a little while ago....” His voice took on a tone of innocent superiority. “Oh, sorry! Did I forget to mention that? He was here _with me_. But I’m sure you already knew, since you obviously care so much about him.” Score one for me, he thought. But his victory was short-lived. He sensed a warning behind the hooded lids and a danger that lurked even deeper.

       “Just so we’re on the same page about my...about Justin _._ I don’t keep tabs on him and I don’t control him. If you really knew him—which you never will—you’d understand he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.” He finished the remainder of his drink in two gulps. As hazel was about to become the new blue, he added, “And just to set the record straight? Yeah, I did know he was here and _with you_.” He made a mental note to leave Greg a very large tip.

        They both intuitively sensed they had reached the no-holds-barred, blow-your-opponent-out-of-the-water stage.

 _         “Oh a storm is threat’ning my very life today. __If I don’t get some shelter, my life is gonna fade away.  Oh, children, it’s just a shot away!” _ _©Jagger/Richards_

       “I think it would be in your best interest to stay away from Justin,” Brian said in an even tone.

        Adam blinked in shock. The guy was unreal. “Why?” he demanded, trying not to yell in frustration. “He doesn’t belong to you! He’s not yours!”

_Yes, pretty boy, he is mine. And I’m not going to let you fuck it up with your adoring looks and sculptured ass and any romantic bullshit you might feed him. I’ll fuck it up all by myself. I don’t need you to rush it. I don’t need anyone to rush it, not even him. _

       “Because it’s none of your fucking business. _He’s_ none of your fucking business,” Brian said coldly, closing the distance.

       “And if I don’t?” Adam countered in defiance.

        Taken aback by the brazen attitude, Brian didn’t stop a harsh laugh from bubbling up. “I’ll let that go this time for a few reasons. First, you obviously don’t know me. If you did, you’d never ask the question; second, because you’re still so _very_ young and third?” he snickered. “Well, let’s not even go there.” He threw him a dismissive look. “We’re done.” He started tugging Erik by his belt toward the backroom but stopped short. “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.”

        He retraced his steps and slithered behind Adam. Pressing himself against the smaller man’s back, he positioned his hands on the bar on each side of him to give a psychological and physical sense of confinement. With a tilt of his head, he glided his tongue over the ivory ear lobe, perversely satisfied when the body shivered and goosebumps rose on the skin. He whispered in an icy voice, “A word of advice, Adam. If you keep this up, I’ll make you regret that you ever met me.”

                                                                                            * * * *

        When Brian emerged from the backroom, tucking his shirt in his jeans and running a hand through his disheveled hair, Adam was nowhere to be found. He walked to an empty spot at the bar and before he could order, Greg placed a drink in front of him, waving off his attempt to pay.

       “This one’s on the house.”

        He raised his glass in a thank-you salute. “Better not let Sap find out. He’ll tie up your balls if he finds out.”

        The bartender grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Besides, you gave me enough entertainment tonight to compensate.”

       “Glad I was on the bill,” Brian answered wryly.

       “It was sort of funny the way twink kept glaring. He looked like he was going to challenge you to a duel, as if he was in competition with you. He should just give up.”

        He cut short his joking monologue when the hazel eyes darkened and the angular jaw tensed. Definitely crossed the line and touched a nerve with that last one, he mused and tried to worm his way back into Brian’s good graces. “Hey, listen, Kinney,” he started, “I didn’t—”

       “Forget it.” Brian pushed away from the bar, his next mark already in sight. “Thanks for the drink,” he called over his shoulder.

        Insinuating himself between two sweaty bodies, he whispered in one dancer’s ear and pushed him toward the door, leaving his partner, a striking man with hair as dark as his disappearing companion’s was light, on the dance floor to wonder what just happened.

                                                                                            * * * *                                                                                           

        Brian and his latest conquest stumbled to the loft in various stages of undress, shirts unbuttoned, pants unzipped, and feeling no pain. Only then, after doing everything _not_ to think about him, did a shadow of Justin cross his mind.

        He pulled the metal door open and staggered across the threshold, putting a finger to his lips. “Shhhh....We have to be very, very quiet! He’s sleeping, he has school tomorrow, he—”

       “Who? You have a kid?”

        A snort of laughter erupted at his companion’s confused look. “Yeah, I have a kid. I also _had_ a kid on the same night.” Dragging the man by his open shirt into the loft, he mumbled, “Don’t ask! ‘Nuff talking, not enough fucking....”

        Despite his condition, his eyes traveled around the loft and landed on the table. He arched a puzzled brow at the oddity of the tableau—the remains of their dinner still in place, as if suspended in time. The only thought in his muddled his brain was that Justin must be really pissed.

        He pushed the trick down on the couch and while tugging at his jeans, hazily wondered if he’d woken Sleeping Beauty. Not that it mattered of course. This was _his_ loft. He could do whatever and whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Justin had to follow the rules, _his_ rules this time.

        A sixth sense born out of familiarity told him something was not quite right. “Hang on a second! Don’t move!”

        More sober than he wanted to be, he forced his steps to his destination. He stared at the bed—the perfectly made and empty bed. With a suffocating knot in his chest, he opened the closet. He peeked into dresser drawers. He gave the bathroom a once over. Only after determining everything was still in place, did he breathe a sigh of relief and exhale the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. But the good feeling quickly morphed into anger at the unwanted and unbidden scenarios his over-active imagination conjured up. Where the fuck did he go? Who the fuck was he with now?

        He didn’t want to ask those questions—he couldn’t face the answers.

 _“And I feel a change a’coming. I can feel it in my bones. Ain’t nothin I can do to stop it. I was always meant to be alone.”_ _©Kin_

 

continue here:<http://archiveofourown.org/works/1342225>


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